Unchained by Elisabeth Naughton ~ Excerpt Tour

Elisabeth Naughton’s UNCHAINED is a Fantasy/Paranormal Romance novella in Elisabeth’s bestselling Eternal Guardians Series that you will not want to miss. UNCHAINED is a standalone novella, brought to you by the amazing team at 1001 Dark Nights. Be sure you grab your copy of this novella today!

ABOUT UNCHAINED:

PROMETHEUS – One of the keenest Titans to ever walk the earth. Until, that is, his weakness for the human race resulted in his imprisonment.

For thousands of years, Prometheus’s only certainty was his daily torture at Zeus’s hand. Now, unchained by the Eternal Guardians, he spends his days in solitude, trying to forget the past. He’s vowed no allegiance in the war between mortal and immortal, but when a beautiful maiden seeks him out and begs for his help, he’s once again powerless to say no. Soon, Prometheus is drawn into the very conflict he swore to avoid, and, to save the maiden’s life, he must choose sides. But she has a secret of her own, and if Prometheus doesn’t discover what she’s hiding in time, the world won’t simply find itself embroiled in a battle between good and evil, it will fall in total domination to Prometheus’s greatest enemy.

By daybreak, Circe’s strength had returned enough so she could conjure her magic. She wasn’t a hundred percent yet, but she couldn’t wait until her body completely healed. Zeus had made it clear the shade could return at any moment. She needed to step up her plan with Prometheus if she had any hope of breaking free from this prison.

She placed the length of chain Zeus had given her in the cauldron, held her hands over the bowl, and summoned her spell. The chain was her link to Prometheus. It had been a part of him so long it still possessed part of his lifeblood. With it, she could find him wherever he was in the cosmos. And with it she could make herself ethereal and lure him to her.

The rock walls around her faded, revealing stone columns and the sound of leaves rustling in the early morning breeze, birds chirping in the forest, and water rushing over the falls. The scents of moss and wood filled her senses as she turned, confused why the spell had brought her to the gazebo already. She wasn’t supposed to start out here. She was supposed to start with Prometheus and tempt him to follow her to th—

The thought halted when she caught sight of him, lying on his side on the chaise, his hands tucked up near his face, his eyes closed, and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. Something beneath her ribs tightened at the sight of him. Something other than lust. Fast asleep, his long dark lashes feathering the skin beneath his eyes, he looked more innocent than godly, more angelic than dangerous. And for a fleeting moment she pictured him chained to that rock in the blistering sun, unable to move, unable to do anything but wait for the giant eagle to swoop down and rip out his liver only to come back and do it all again the next day.

He’d only escaped that living hell because of the Argonauts. Because his daughter’s mate had rescued him so Prometheus could save her life. Zeus had been pissed when Prometheus was freed. Circe remembered all too well how he’d marched into her cave and ordered her to bring Prometheus back. It had taken her several hours to convince the king of the gods that her witchcraft didn’t work that way. Luckily—for her—Zeus had finally abandoned that order, but she knew he was waiting for the moment when he could make Prometheus suffer. Zeus’s memory was long. When someone bested him, he never forgot. And Prometheus had bested him more than any other.

ABOUT ELISABETH NAUGHTON:

Elisabeth Naughton is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. From Elisabeth: “I was never one of those people who knew they wanted to be an author at the age of six. I didn’t have imaginary friends. I didn’t write stories in my journal or entertain my relatives by firelight after Thanksgiving dinner. For the most part, I was just a normal, everyday kid. I liked to read, but I wasn’t exceptional at it. And when my teachers complimented me on my writing abilities, I brushed them off. I did, however, always have a penchant for the unique and absurd. And as my mother told me all throughout my childhood, I should have been an actress—I was a drama queen before my time.Visit Elisabeth Naughton’s website.

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